Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges
by xStealthxSniperx
Summary: Ghost and Roach have survived Shepherd's betrayal. Soap and Price are trying to bring down Makarov. Can they bring him down and find each other in the process?
1. Loose Ends

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are used for entertainment only, nor does the author make any money from writing it.

A/N: Hey guys! So this is my first story on Fanfiction (obviously…) and I would really appreciate constructive criticism. (No flames though please!) Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 1: Loose Ends

"Do you have the DSM?" General Shepherd shouted.

"We got it, sir!" Ghost said, his accent flaring as he yelled over the wind.

"Good," Shepherd replied as he walked closer to the two men, "that's one less loose end."

Suddenly, Shepherd grabbed his revolver and shot the already wounded Roach. Ghost stared at him in astonishment as he fell to the ground.

"NO!" He screamed.

Finishing the job, Shepherd shot Ghost in the chest. He watched Roach warily as he leaned over him to take the DSM. Roach regarded him with a small groan of pain.

As shepherd walked away, Roach looked over at Ghost, seeing the Brit's eyes clouded over with pain through the orange sunglasses he wore.

Roach watched as two of Shepherd's men came over to the fallen soldiers and picked them up, on at a time; picking Roach up first.

Walking over to a large pit, he heard them mutter small words of apology. Then they threw him into the pit like a sack of potatoes. After a moment they returned to Ghost and did the same.

A few more of Shepherd's men came over and doused their bodies with gasoline. Shepherd himself stood beside the helpless men, smoking a cigar.

Finally, after several minutes of watching them, he flicked the cigar onto the gasoline rich bodies. Flames immediately sprang to life, going to work on burning the two's clothing. Roach thought he faintly heard Ghost screaming in agony, but then again, it could've been him. All he knew was that he was in pain. So much pain…

As best as he could, Roach watched Shepherd's helicopter fly off into the distance, listened to Captain Price yelling at them not to trust Shepherd, and wondered what the hell he and Ghost did to deserve this.

* * *

So…here ya go! It was really short, but it was more of a prologue than an actual chapter, so the real ones will be coming soon!


	2. Saved?

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are used for entertainment only, nor does the author make any money from it.

A/N: So, here's the second chapter. I hope you're enjoying it. :D

Sassy Satsuma: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you're enjoying this. :3 I may just have to read that story of yours. ;)

* * *

Chapter 2: Saved?

When Roach awoke he saw men in black clothing everywhere. There were some kneeling beside him and the unconscious Ghost, there were some inspecting the area where Shepherd's helo had been, and even men coming down the hill from Makarov's estate.

Makarov...the spiky, black haired bastard was the cause of all of this. Shepherd's betrayal, Ghost's possible death, and the entire war itself.

When the two men by Roach noticed that he had awaken, they yelled at the men who were leaning over Ghost in a foreign language, presumably Russian.  
The other Russians meandered over to Roach, and all four men began to check him over. After a few minutes the closest one to his head spoke to him.

"How do you feel?" the Russian asked.

Roach made a mental check of all his body parts. His stomach was burning from the bullet penetration, his head was throbbing, and his whole body ached from getting burned, but other than that he felt fine. He told all this to the man, who he assumed had a medical background, and tried to sit up. Immediately a hand pushed him back down.

"You need to rest, my friend," the man said, "we will bring you to a hospital soon and when we do, I don't want to be blamed for letting you do something that will make you worse."  
He said this with a twinkle in his eyes, but Roach didn't argue the subject. He only looked over at Ghost.

"Will he be okay?" he croaked, his throat sore from the fire's fumes and his own screaming.

All four men glanced at Ghost and with a sad smile looked back at Roach.

"If we don't make it to the hospital soon," one of them said, "I'm afraid your friend may not survive."

Roach's breath caught in his throat. He and Ghost weren't the best of friends, but they respected each other and got along all right.

"Don't worry, my friend," the first Russian spoke, "we will do everything in our power to make sure he lives."

Even though Roach still felt uneasy, the man's soft words comforted him. All he wanted to do was make sure he and Ghost lived, and make it back to the team.

After a while, Roach focused his attention on what the group by the heli tracks were doing. They seemed to be tracking Shepherd. Somehow this made his revenge lust flare. He wanted Shepherd to die a painful and slow death. Hopefully MacTavish and Price hadn't gotten in his path and gotten killed in the process of trying to kill him.

Finally the searching men came back, watching Roach curiously. They ambled over to the men working over him and Ghost, then announced something in Russian.

"It is time to go, my friend." one man called to him.

XxXxXxX

Now. Getting on the stretcher...was a bitch. Every little piece of Roach's body burned with the annoyance of being moved during its healing rest. When on the chopper though, his muscles relaxed again and he let out a sigh of relief.

When they set Ghost next to him, he noticed that his balaclava was gone. 'Probably for CPR' he thought. Roach took a good look at his superior's face. His eyes took in the sharp outline of his jaw, the dark eyebrows, and the lips; the top one just that much fuller than the bottom. A memory sparked Roach's mind. He thought on it for a moment and realized that MacTavish had described someone that looked exactly like this.

When MacTavish had been just a Sergeant, an FNG, he had been in the SAS with Price and a man named Gaz. Both Price and Gaz had been thought dead, especially Gaz after MacTavish had watched him get shot in the back of the head, but apparently both had evaded death.

Roach wondered how this was possible, and made a mental note to ask "Ghost" about it later...if he survived. But right then, Roach needed to rest, not wake someone up just to ask about their past.  
After a few minutes all the Russians had boarded on the helicopter, and the pilot lifted off the ground. As he did, Roach drifted off into an uneasy sleep filled with dreams about the future.

* * *

So there you have it! :) Chapter two is now written.


	3. The Answer is Not Revenge

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

A/N: Okay, so I'm really happy that I'm getting some reviews, thanks guys! You're awesome and all get cookies! And as you've probably noticed, I'm trying to update fast, but part of that reason is because I have it already written down on paper (my style of writing is very odd…I start out the chapter on my phone as a rough draft, then I do my final copy on paper…weird, huh?) So once I run out of those I'm going to continue to try to update quickly, but there's no guarantee that I will. :P Anyways, enjoy the chapter!

xGhostxStealth: I'm glad that you think so! Although, I'm just happy I'm getting any reviews. :P

Sassy Satsuma: You're very welcome for the review/comment. :3 Your story is great. :D And yeah, everyone is alive. But eventually someone will die. Someone I think you want to actually. *wink* I'm glad you're enjoying the chapter, and like I said, I'll try to update as quickly as I can!

SuddenSummerStorm: Well I'm glad you're enjoying this. I wasn't too sure it was that good when I started writing it, but now that I'm getting good feedback, my thoughts on it are changing.

duvalia: Yeah, I'm not sure I like them not quite being good friends, but I'm sure that they will after all the events that'll go on. ;) And hopefully that mystery will become a little bit less as he opens up.

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Chapter 3: The Answer is Not Revenge

Again, as Roach awoke, he found himself in a brightly lit room. It was filled with posters that told you things about your ears, and others with information about cancer, and how you could get the different kinds. But the problem with all of them was that they were all in Russian. Roach was surprised that he could even identify them.

His eyes roamed the room finding that it was painted with light colors some of which were: red, blue, and green. Roach wouldn't admit it, nor could he even wonder why he noticed this, but to him, the colors matched horribly. A large lamp sat in the corner of the room, obviously the source of the brightness.

Suddenly, the man that he had mostly conversed with at the burn site walked in. "Hello, my friend, I see you are awake."

Roach was tempted you yell out, "Duh!" but with all this man's kindness and hospitality, he settled for short nod.

"By the way," the man began, "I am Ivan Smirnov."

Roach nodded, "Gary Sanderson," he croaked.

Ivan looked at something behind Roach, and he noticed a sharp beeping. The heart monitor.

"So how's Gho-Simon?" Roach caught himself, he wasn't used to saying Ghost's "real" name.

Ivan smiled, "Your friend is doing quite well. We know for a fact that he will not die in our care."

Roach sighed in relief. He'd had his doubts about Ghost living, but apparently he pulled through after all. "When can I see him?" He asked.

"Well you could see him right now, but I would not advise it."

Roach looked at him suspiciously, "Why not?"

"You are barely any better off than he is!" Ivan laughed, "I would say you are faithful, but since you should know that you can trust us, I will call you funny."

"How so?" Roach questioned.

"You go to check if your comrade is okay without the thought that you might be worse off than he! Worse, we have already tried to make you trust us, and you act as if we will betray you!"

Roach looked at him sheepishly, "He's my teammate. We have to look out for each other."

Ivan nodded, "Very true. I will ask you to wait one more day, but whether or not you take my advice is your choice. I will not force you."

Roach smiled, he was starting to like Ivan. "Thanks," he murmured.

Now Ivan looked confused, "For what?" he asked.

"If you hadn't brought us here, we probably would've died." Roach replied.

"Ah," Ivan said quietly, "when you lose your family for no apparent reason even though they were innocent, go out to get revenge on the bastards, and more friends get killed, you realize that the revenge that you were looking for, is not the answer." Ivan said this with a passion in his eyes, and Roach realized that he felt very strongly about this subject, and didn't share it with many. It made him wonder why he'd shared it with him.

"I must bid you farewell, my friend. I will see you soon."

As Ivan turned and left, Roach pondered what he had told him. He decided to take Ivan's suggestion, and rest for one more day. His thoughts began to get hazy and just as he started to doze off, a nurse walked briskly into the room.  
"

Are you Mister Sanderson?" she asked.

Roach nodded in confusion.

The nurse smiled, which reassured him slightly. Then she glanced at her clipboard and told him, "Well Mister Sanderson, a Mister Riley would like to see you."

* * *

Well there you have it. I feel kind of bad that I'm bad at making long chapters (hence why they are so short…) but I can never seem to make them long…Don't worry though. There will be at least one or so chapters that are reasonably long. (that also take a butt load of time to write…:P)


	4. Endgame

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are used for entertainment only, nor does the author make any money from writing it.

A/N: Well there's the disclaimer. I realized after I posted the last chapter that I forgot it, so this will make up for it. :P Anyways, here's another prologue/type thing for MacTavish. Enjoy! :3

Meg: Well I'm glad that you're reading the story. It's nice to know that you're enjoying. It. And I still have quite a few chapters written on paper, so they'll hopefully be updated quite quickly.

SuddenSummerStorm: Well I'm glad that you forgive me. :D It does take quite an effort for me to write longer chapters, because after a while I start noticing the words that I use over and over again and it gets me frustrated that I can't think of any other words. :P

xGhostxStealth: I'm glad. Ivan was supposed to be one of those cool, laid back type of people, and I'm glad that you like him. And don't worry, his past will be talked about soon enough. ;) And yes, Roach is very concerned about Ghost's health. xD

Sassy Satsuma: Yay! Well, I'm not sure I could kill off Ghost for fear of getting stabbed in the middle of the night. 0_o But yes, he is alive. I'm glad you like Ivan. I wasn't too sure about making OCs at first, but then I took a liking to him too, and now I find it very fun to make them. I'm happy that you're interested in it. :D Yes, more chapters for you. :3

* * *

Chapter 4: Endgame

Soap awoke to a horrible feeling in his chest. Even though he was on land, it felt as if he were drowning. Slowly, he got to his knees, his vision hazy around the edges, and hacked up what seemed gallons of water.

When finally all suffocating liquids escaped him, Soap stood. He stumbled around a bit, but finally gained his balance. Scanning the area around him, he didn't see what he wanted to: Price. His eyes eventually found the mess that was Shepherd's heli.  
He staggered towards it, his mind set on one thing - kill Shepherd. Along the way, Soap discovered he had a knife in his pocket. He pulled it out and continued walking forward.

As he got closer, he felt the flames. They felt like they were licking his face, but he knew better. If he were in them, it would feel like his skin was getting ripped off, layer by layer.

Soap saw one of Shepherd's men crawling on the ground. He appeared to be doing this blindly, but Soap knew he was trying to get away from the pain. He decided to have mercy on the poor man. He walked forward and stabbed him in the back. The man screamed, then went limp.

Soap sighed. He was very close to the wreckage now. The licking warmth was now a prickling heat.

Another man sat on a pile of debris, he was pointing a pistol at him. The man cocked the gun and pulled the trigger, but all that came out was a sharp click. Even as Soap came nearer, the man clicked his gun, seeming to get more frantic the closer he got.

Finally, Soap slashed right between the man's collarbone. He grasped at his throat which was spurting blood everywhere, and then a blank look filled his gaze.

Soap slowly walked around the helicopter. He saw someone stumbling away and realized with a start that it was Shepherd. He sped up, his vision becoming even more blurry. As he caught up to Shepherd who was resting on a car Shepherd decided to make conversation.

"You know what they say about revenge," he began, "you better be ready to dig two graves."

Soap pulled back his hand, ready to strike. Before he even got close to hitting his target, Shepherd grabbed his wrist and slammed his head into the abandoned vehicle. Soap fell to the ground, his head throbbing and his vision stained with red. He watched as Shepherd jabbed his own knife into his chest.

He was already in so much pain his body barely registered the new one, but even still, it was too much for him and he blacked out.

XxXxXxX

When he came to, who knows how much later, Shepherd was pulling out his Magnum.

"Five years ago," he whispered, "I lost 30,000 men in the blink of an eye. And the world just fuckin' watched." Soap's breath came out as ragged gasps as Shepherd put a few rounds into the revolver. "Tomorrow, there will be no shortage of volunteers, no shortage of patriots," Shepherd pointed the gun at Soap, "I know you understand."

He pulled the trigger and Soap felt a vibration in the ground next to him. He looked up to see Price and Shepherd fist-fighting a few feet away. He looked to the side and saw a hole in the ground. Price had saved his life. Then he noticed the sidearm. He crawled to it, knowing that if he could get to it, he could end the general's life. When he was within arm's reach of it, Price landed on the ground, watching him. Just as he reached for it, it was kicked away. He looked up only to be greeted with Shepherd's boot.

Price then got up and tackled him again. Soap began to drift off.

A few minutes later, he came to. He lay there, helpless, observing the two battle before his sight dimmed again. This happened several more times before Soap registered the knife protruding from his chest. His thoughts began to get coherent, and finally made sense to his pain-ridden, confused mind. His fingers twitched, then latched themselves onto the handle. He pulled as hard as he could.

It took him several minutes, but finally his other hand flashed to life and helped the right. The knife came out with a burst of fresh pain and a spray of sticky blood. Somehow, Soap managed to aim it at Shepherd. He flung it with all the strength he had left and watched as the sharp metal went straight through Shepherd's left eye. He fell to the ground next to the unconscious Price, his leg draped over the latter's stomach.

After this, Soap sat there, surprisingly wide awake, until Price awoke - the next morning.

Price coughed, then flung Shepherd's limp leg off of him. He sat up wheezing, and looked at Soap. "Soap!" he rasped, "Soap!"

A while later, Soap found himself being patched up by Price. About fifty yards to the right, a helicopter was landing. Price studied it for a moment before shaking his head and helping him up. "Come on. It'll hold for now."

Soap put his arm around Price's shoulders as he carried him towards the chopper. "I thought I said this was a one way trip." He complained halfheartedly as Nikolai stepped out.

"Looks like it still is," Nikolai commented, "They'll be looking for us you know." He ran over and helped carry Soap to the safety of the helo.

"Nikolai," Price grunted, "we need to get Soap out of here."

Nikolai nodded, "Da, I know a place."

* * *

I'm not sure why it's so fun to write scenes that have already happened. It might have something to do with the fact that I've played the game so much that I don't even have to play it again to remember the lines. …Yeah, I play maybe a little too much. :P


	5. Intel

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are used for entertainment only, nor does the author make any money from writing it.

A/N: Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I'm really starting to think it's a good story. I'm happy you guys are enjoying it, too. So here's another chapter. Enjoy!

SuddenSummerStorm: You are not pathetic. Everybody loves a little Soap here and there. ;) And Shepherd better be dead, or else I'm not going to be a very happy camper. :P And yeah, I play a little bit too much Modern Warfare, so the ones that happened in the game are really no sweat for me to write.

VerityA: I'm glad you liked it. :3 I'm trying to add a bit of humor into the story. It's good to know that I'm not failing epically. :P

Sassy Satsuma: Well I'm glad that you're liking this story so much. Yeah, us gamers can get pretty obsessive, huh? :3 I'm trying to stay in character with these type of chapters. It wouldn't be good for him to be thinking very odd thoughts, especially when you can just imagine what he's really thinking while you're playing the game. I think that my confidence is going up too. I'm feeling more and more free to write more details. Although apparently that's not enough, because they're still short. :P It's fine. The "ramble" was very much enjoyed. :D Ivan will be in there quite a bit too, so no need to worry about that. ;)

* * *

Chapter 5: Intel

Sunlight streamed through the small window straight onto Soap's face as he listened to Nikolai and Price's conversation, pretending to be asleep. "Yes, Shepherd's dead," Price was saying, "and his blank check died with him. Whatever plans he had for killing that son of a bitch are over. Wiped out. And _nobody_ knows what they were."

The two shifted around.

"Da," Nikolai began, "and we'll just have to work without that traitor's ideas."

Price grunted, "Traitor or not, Shepherd was a smart man. He undoubtedly had great plans for this. Now we have to start from scratch."

Nikolai sighed, "My friend, I do not see why you're getting all worked up over this. Makarov is just another terrorist with good ideas and common sense. Sort of like Shepherd in a sick sense, but he will be taken down. Period."

Soap heard a shuffling of clothing and figured Price had shrugged. "Anyways, Soap, we, or at least I, know you're awake. You can stop the charade now."

Soap cursed under his breath, wondering how Price seemed to know everything. He opened his eyes and slowly sat up, testing his abilities. Immediately Nikolai came over to him, "Be careful, my friend," he warned, "I still do not know the extent of your injuries. If you hyper-extend or tear something, we could have a problem."

Soap chuckled darkly, it was just his luck for something like that to happen. He fully straightened up and winced as he felt the damage of the knife. His chest throbbed, his head ached, and damn! Where was the water when you needed it?

"I'm fine," he decided, "is there any water?"

Price smirked, "Yes, yes there is."

Soap scowled, "May I have some?"

"Since you were polite about it, I suppose you may."

Nikolai laughed at the exchange, seeing the way Price was trying to bring humor into their current predicament. He walked to a corner in the small cabin where the sink was. Grabbing a cup and quickly filling it with water he strode towards the thirsty soldier.

Soap gulped it down, "Thanks," he mumbled.

"So you heard our conversation." Price stated. Soap stared at his former captain, not acknowledging the rhetorical question at all. "What are we gonna do about it?"

Soap shrugged, "Well first we need to get some intel. We have no idea where the hell this guy is since again our last intel was off. So, yeah. Intel would be good.."

Price grunted. He had apparently been too stressed out to remember that crucial detail.

"We don't have anyone on our side," Soap uttered, "save for a few people of course. But everywhere we go people are going to recognize us, probably try to kill us too. Why? Because at the moment, we're at the tippy-top of the most wanted list. We're above Makarov himself! Before we go tromping off into God knows where, we need to lay low. Get our names off the top. Hell, the next page would be even better."

Price stared at the floor, "So we're just going to spend a while looking for leads?"

Soap fought the urge to chuckle - he knew how much Price hated waiting. He instead settled for a sharp nod.

Nikolai, unnoticed by the two of them, had pulled out a laptop. His eyes roamed across the screen, quickly taking in all the information he could manage. "My friends," he muttered, "you may want to see this."

They hurried over to his side, seeing that he was looking at the list that Soap had mentioned prior. Amazingly, the two British men were off the top. They came in second. Now, Vladimir Makarov was in his accustomed position in first place. Price snorted,

"That didn't take long."

Soap didn't answer. He was looking at what Nikolai had actually pointed out. Makarov had been spotted in Moscow. He had then ran to a small ghost town on the outer borders of the city.

When Price saw this the smirk he had been wearing dropped. "We going?" he questioned without removing his gaze from the screen.

Soap nodded, "But first," he added quickly, "we need weapons."

Nikolai raised his hand, "I know of someone who can help." he murmured.

Soap grunted, "So much for laying low." he muttered.

* * *

I think it's kind of funny that whenever I review, when people start out with, "I really like this story!" or things along those lines, I always write, "I'm glad." 0_o Not exactly sure why. I also realized I didn't really give Soap time to recover...Bad mistake on my part, but I'm hoping you'll be forgiving? :D


	6. Patience

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are used for entertainment only, nor does the author make any money from writing it.

A/N: So, here's another chapter. I'm happy that I'm actually getting time to update every day, though it's usually late by the time I do…Well, anyways, enjoy!

LinkAQ: Yeah, I know it's already happened, but they were more like chapters that showed where we were starting off from. Sorry if it bored you…But thanks for the review!

xGhostxStealth: It's totally fine. :D It's good that it was overlooked so easily, because when I was re-reading through it, I suddenly realized that I had forgotten about that and I was like, "Oh, crap!" Lol, but anyways, yeah, I wanted to make Price a little more laid back (kind of like Ivan…in a sense) and joking than he was in the game. I thought he was a little too serious in the game, but maybe it was just me.

Sassy Satsuma: Well, I'm glad that you guys are so forgiving. I don't know what I'd do if you said you didn't…Lol. Yeah, Price was one of my favorites, as was Nikolai, but I find them both towards the lower end of it. Not exactly sure why.

* * *

Chapter 6: Patience

The nurse led a stumbling Roach down an unfamiliar hallway. He kept running into things and crying out in muffled pain. Soon enough she came to a halt outside the door of a room. Roach noticed as he approached that its number was 141 and couldn't help but sense a bit of irony there.

She calmly waited for him to catch up before putting a finger to her lips, "Please be quiet when you go in. Mister Riley has already complained about a headache and I don't want him in any more pain than he has to be."

Roach nodded. He waited impatiently as the nurse slowly and silently opened the door. As soon as it was parted enough Roach rushed into the room, almost falling to the floor in his haste. He heard a small raspy chuckle and looked up to see Ghost watching him sleepily from the bed.

Roach glanced at the nurse who nodded at him reassuringly. He carefully picked his way to Ghost's side, making sure not to trip on the way there.

"How are you feeling?" he asked quietly.

"Like shit," Ghost replied slowly.

Roach snorted, "Yeah, same here."

"What happened?" Ghost asked urgently.

Roach frowned then told him about the mission. How they had stormed into Makarov's estate, breached and cleared the large house, and started loading up the requested DSM. How they had fought for their lives to protect the precious intel that they were collecting. How once the transfer had completed they had made their way down the ravine, Russians shooting at them from all sides. How Roach had gotten injured by a mortar and Ghost dragged him to Shepherd who they thought was going to help them. How instead, the traitor pulled out his Magnum and shot Roach, who was already losing a lot of blood as it was, then did the same to Ghost. How he had left them there. Took the DSM and left them to burn in his flames of betrayal.

Towards the end, Ghost had clenched his jaw. Roach wasn't sure if it was from the pain of his burns or his anger at the situation. He eventually figured it was a mixture of both. "I can't believe he did that." Ghost whispered.

Roach nodded. He looked into Ghost's ice blue eyes and suddenly remembered what he had discovered at the burn site. Before he knew what he was doing he blurted out, "You're Gaz aren't you?"

Ghost looked surprised at this while Roach covered his mouth at the impulsive words. "How do you know that?" Ghost asked quietly.

Roach winced. It sounded as if he were mad, but he would've been more comfortable if Ghost had yelled at him. Nonetheless he explained how MacTavish had told him about his FNG days with Gaz and Price. When he finished Ghost was smiling, "Yeah, that Scot always knew how to run his mouth."

Roach didn't catch the humor in the statement, "Do they know?" he asked seriously.

Ghost sighed, "If you mean MacTavish and Price, then no."

Roach looked confused, "Why not? Don't you think they'd be happy to know you're alive?"

Again Ghost shook his head, "They might, but I'm happier living the life if Ghost, instead of Gaz."

Roach frowned, "Just tell me one thing - Is your real name Simon Riley?"

To his surprise Ghost nodded, "I had never told the SAS my real name, so I figured it was safe to use for the Task Force."

"So I'm guessing you don't want me telling them?"

Ghost shrugged, "If we were to ever see them again I think it'd be quite a shock for them just to see we're alive."

"So true." Roach muttered.

"Roach, when Zakhaev shot me, everyone thought I'd been shot in the head," Ghost motioned to an area on this back, wincing in pain as he stretched something that didn't want to be stretched, "but he missed. I somehow got away from death that day. She told me that I still had life to live, things to do and see." His eyes looked at something Roach couldn't see as he searched his memories. "The doctors said I might have problems with my back after that, but no. No problems at all, even after I ran away..." Now Ghost seemed to be talking more to himself than to Roach, but the latter continued to listen anyway.

The elder's distant eyes suddenly shot to Roach's face, "Roach," he began, "we have to get back to the team."

Roach grunted in agreement. The truly did need to. If only to see they were still alive. To know that Shepherd had not gotten to them too. The two hoped that was not the case.

Ghost appeared to be thinking hard, his brow creased in concentration. Finally his eyes lit up, "We'll wait until we're in traveling conditions," he decided, "then we'll go."

Roach grinned in agreement. Soon they would return to the only family they had at the moment. They just had to be patient.

* * *

Well, another one done. I'm starting to work actually into the Modern Warfare 3 parts (as you can see :P) and they'll be something that you actually haven't heard before. Unless you're a mind reader…:3 And again, sorry the chapters are so short. My mind seems unable to make long ones. Although there will be at least one. I'm hoping for at least a few more, but we'll see. :P


	7. Back to the Drawing Board

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are used for entertainment only, nor does the author make any money from writing it.

A/N: Well, here's another chapter. I wasn't too sure I was going to get it out today because after bowling today I went over to one of my friends' house and after I left there, another friend who was also at the others came over to my house…That really made no sense to me, but if you understood that, congratulations! I honestly confuse myself sometimes. :P Enjoy!

xGhostxStealth: I was hoping that people wouldn't mind that Ghost was Gaz. I have it set in my mind that he actually is, and that in Modern Warfare 3 they're gonna show how Gaz survived, or something along those lines. Whether or not that really happens, well, I suppose that's all up to Infinity Ward, now isn't it? ;) But I'm happy that you like my idea of him for this.

Sassy Satsuma: I don't think I know anyone who didn't like Gaz. :P And I'm really sad that he "died." I'm hoping that Infinity Ward decides to really make him Ghost, that they'll show him again in MW3. But maybe it won't, maybe it will. You never know. And yeah, I wanted him and Roach to become better friends through the events they endure. And opening up is always a first step. :3 I wasn't too sure about that line. I mean, I thought it sounded cool, but I still wasn't too sure. But anyways, thanks for reviewing! Hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

Chapter 7: Back to the Drawing Board

Soap scanned the ground far below. He and Price were in Nikolai's helo. They had just been to his source and gotten weapons. Now they were on their way to Moscow.

For some reason Soap felt scared. At some point Price noticed, asking him if he'd just seen a ghost. Soap just replied that he was anticipating their mission. That was half the truth.

He was anxious for the mission, but he kept thinking about what happened to Ghost and Roach. He wasn't completely sure they were dead, but if they weren't, where were they? Not waltzing through Russia having a jolly old time playing poker with some buddies of theirs he was sure. At the same time, there was good reason to think they were gone. Why hadn't they answered when Price warned them about Shepherd? Maybe Shepherd had already gotten to them, but they managed to get away. Soap knew both men were pretty tough bastards.

If they did survive, Soap prayed that they would make it back safely. His heart felt broken in two without his trusted teammates and best friends gone. They were both like brothers to him, and he missed them like hell.

"ETA, two minutes!" Nikolai called, breaking Soap out of his thoughts.

He looked out of the window again. The buildings in the distance looked sinister, as if inviting the men to their deaths. He suppressed a shudder. He heard Price grunt and saw he was looking at the deserted side of the city.

Apparently, long ago there had been some kind of poison which had driven everyone out. When the danger had passed, people kept to where they had made their "makeshift" homes because of better sources for life there.

That was where their intel said Makarov was hiding out. Soap hoped he was, for he would make the son of a bitch pay for starting this damn war.

Soon the helo touched the ground and the two men got off. Immediately they set to work by getting their MP5Ks out and putting ammo into any open pockets. Then they were on their way. As the ring of the chopper's blades faded, Price led the way,peeking around a corner, and seeing nothing, slowly crept forward. Soap followed close behind. For several minutes they wound their way through the abandoned town.

Soap had pulled out a heartbeat sensor moments before and watched it intently as they made their way through the maze.

Finally a few heat signatures came through onto the sensor. A building straight ahead had three people in it. The two snuck forward until they could press their ears to the door. Inside they could hear quiet voices talking.

"We need to get out of here soon or the FSB will come here and take us like children." That was Makarov, Soap could tell by the soft formidable sounding tone.

"Yes Makarov," another voice, this time irritated, spoke, unfamiliar in his ears.

"Anatoly, there is no need to be cranky," Makarov said, "the Americans have been defeated and Shepherd got his war. Not to mention what he deserved. Now everything is fine."

The other man, now known as Anatoly snorted, "Yeah, except we're in hiding - staying low for the sake of our lives."

"Why can't you be like Viktor? He may not like the situation, but he at least has the sense to be angry in silence." Another man grunted.

Soap by now was confused. What was Makarov talking about? Shepherd had wanted the war? What had he done, gone to Makarov asking him to kill thousands of innocent people? That certainly sounded like him the more Soap thought about it, but for what? What did he gain? So it wasn't entirely Makarov's fault Ghost and Roach were dead...

Looking at Price who nodded, they prepared to barge in. They slowly stood up, begging silently that their joints wouldn't crack and give away their position. They began to run full force into the doors. As the wood fell to the ground the duo pointed their sub machine guns at the three Russians.

Anatoly raised his arms in surrender, Viktor held a look of surprise, but Makarov just stared them down coldly, "What do you want, Price?" he snapped.

"Put your hands where I can see them or I WILL shoot!" Soap ordered, ignoring the black haired man's question, and cutting off any answer his former captain could've made. Slowly Makarov complied. Viktor had a wild look in his eyes and when he reached for his gun Price shot him down, waiting for his groaning to stop before looking at the trembling Anatoly. "If you try anything funny like that you'll end up like him."

Anatoly nodded.

Soap grabbed a pair of handcuffs and strapped them to Makarov before leading him outside. Their plan was to get as much information from him as they could, then kill him. But first they would have to rid themselves of his companions. Just as planned,

Price led Anatoly around a corner and soon Soap heard a loud click. Anatoly was now out of the way. Price reappeared rubbing his fist and they both sat the terrorist on the dusty ground.

"What did Shepherd tell you?" Price demanded.

Makarov laughed, "You still have not figured it out? You are more stupid than I had assumed!" Soap growled at the Russian as he continued to laugh, "Your general asked me, no, paid me to kill the civilians at the airport. Then he told me to rid myself of

"Alexei" and leave his body for the police to find."

Price cursed, "We should have known."

"He played his part quite well then." Makarov commented.

Soap poked him with the barrel of his gun to shut him up. They stood there for a few moments, and just as they turned to complete their task, a loud explosion sounded not too far off from them. They turned to see several vans parked a ways away.  
"Bollocks!" Price shouted as they watched the disoriented FSB stumble towards them. They suddenly saw Nikolai's helo overhead. They understood that he had created a diversion for them. When the two turned to Makarov, the had come face to face with the wall. Nothing besides buildings were in sight.

Soap turned to the clearing to their left and saw a figure in the distance. That little bugger had snuck away while the two were watching the ordeal. They ran after him, not entirely trying to catch him, mostly to get away from the hostiles.

When they reached the place where Nikolai had touched off, the Russian urged them in before taking off once more.

"You did not get him?" Nikolai cried out in alarmed confusion. He had thought along with the two Brits that the plan was foolproof.

Price shook his head bitterly, "No. Back to the drawing board."

* * *

I wrote this down while listening to Avenged Sevenfold. :3 I love them. They're like my source of amusement when everything else bores me. :P


	8. Recovering

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are used for entertainment only, nor does the author make any money from writing it.

A/N: This one's quite short. Although I'm proud that the past few chapters have at least been in the 1000 word mark. :P So, enough of my babbling, onto the story!

supergamer16: Thanks for the review! I'm honored that you think that way. I keep thinking that it would be cool to see it happen sort of like this, but we all know that they'll do it how they want. :P Glad you're liking it though.

* * *

Chapter 8: Recovering

Roach tried to get as much rest as he could, but that was proven quite difficult for Ghost seemed to want him in his sights as much as possible. The doctors told Roach that he was still in shock but Ghost denied this, saying that he just didn't want to lose him. Roach obeyed without question, resorting to sleeping in the chair by Ghost's bedside. Sometimes Ghost offered him the bed but Roach refused, stating that he didn't want to make him get out and that he wasn't comfortable cuddling with his lieutenant. Ghost only shrugged and told him to have it his way.

While they stayed like this, Ivan visited several times. He only stayed for a few brief minutes, giving them information about the outside world. He told them his troops were searching for Makarov, and even had an eye out for the captains; having orders not to attack. While these conversations took place, the two realized that they were anticipating when he would visit, that they were becoming friends with the Russian.

Slowly, they began to get better. The only thing holding them back was Roach, who was recovering much slower because of Ghost's request. The sergeant told his superior this, but Ghost only told him that he would wait for him, but at the moment he needed him there. Roach hesitantly agreed, Ghost's promise making him feel slightly reassured about his health.

A week after their arrival, they began to show some serious improvement - Roach a little ways behind of course, but improvement all the same. After Ghost was able to get up and walk without wincing in pain he insisted that Roach go back to his own room. He then stayed with the youth until he felt better.

A day or so later Ivan took them out of the infirmary and into the crisp, fresh, mountainous air outside. They breathed it in hungrily like dogs deprived of food for several days. Ivan laughed at them and showed them around. He let them have some target practice, knowing that they were starving for gun-use. They were grateful and took the opportunity with no reluctance.

On their ninth day there, Ivan looked at them with a joyous expression. He led them back to the infirmary again, a place they hadn't stayed in since Roach's recovery, and left them to the nurse's will, all without speaking.

The nurse, a young lady with dark brown hair and a smiling face, checked them over before grinning at them, "Sirs," she began, "Your health is getting better and better." She paused, looked at Ghost and asked, "How is your chest feeling Mister Riley?"

Ghost breathed in deeply, "I feel great ma'am. No pain at all."

The nurse smiled at that, "And yours?" she questioned Roach.

"Spectacular." he said with a smirk.

The nurse wrote down a few things on her notepad before grinning at the two soldiers once more, "Well, if you are feeling fine, then you have the "doctor's" approval to travel."

* * *

Sunflower seeds are so good. I got a bag of them today and almost finished the whole thing. :P Gotta love 'em.


	9. Lost

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are used for entertainment only, nor does the author make any money from writing it.

A/N: This one's short too, sadly enough. But, the long one is coming up soon too. ;) And I actually used some more Russian in this chapter! :D Not just "da!" Anyways, enjoy. :3

duvalia: Nah, you're fine. ;) I'm just happy you're reviewing at all. That's true. Longer for me is more challenging. And mine are short _and_ sweet. :P So that makes it all better. Yep, Roach is worried about Ghost. xD He cares for his superior. I'm not entirely sure what part he plays either…I think I'm going for a friend that sort of helps them along the way, through their journey. But, I guess I'll find out when you do. Lol

VerityA: Thanks! Glad you're sticking with it!

SuddenSummerStorm: Why hello! :P I'm happy that you liked them. :3 Yeah, sunflower seeds are great. I've never tried salted watermelon seeds, but I'll have to. It sounds good. I think that Infinity Ward and Treyarch are going back and forth, or something like that. But that would be awesome if they sneaked a peek here and looked at all the awesome stories and got ideas for it. I'm very excited for it to come out. :P

* * *

Chapter 9: Lost

Ghost's eyes widened, "Really?" he asked.

The nurse nodded, "Now shoo!" she cried while waving them away with her hands, "I don't need perfectly healthy men crowding up my infirmary!"

The two soldiers scurried away until they met up with Ivan who was grinning madly.

"You knew all along, didn't you?" Roach asked with a smile on his face.

Ivan nodded, "I figured you would be happier with a nurse's point of view as opposed to mine." he explained.

The two grunted in understanding. "So we're free to go?" Ghost wondered out loud.

"Yes," Ivan replied, "but I will request that you let me come with you."

"Why?" they asked in unison.

Ivan smiled kindly, "I would like to help you bring down Makarov, and I would also like to see you reunited with your captains."

They looked at each other in a silent discussion; both of them realizing that they wanted to take him along. He was a friend and a valuable ally. It would also be nice to have him there for companionship. They jerked their heads to end the interaction.

"You can come. We're going to Moscow!" Roach sang.

Ghost gave him a long look before shaking it off. Ivan stood there shaking in anticipation when he realized something, "Before we leave though, were you planning on taking anyone else with you?"

Ivan shook his head, "Niet, just me. And trust me, I have many contacts who will help us along the way."

The two grinned at this and set off for their quarters. Ghost and Roach packed what possessions they had left and went to meet Ivan. When they reached the Sergeant's private quarters, he was finishing up his packing. He noticed them and smiled,declaring, "We are ready, my friends!"

They set off first in a truck that Ivan borrowed from a Corporal, after promising several times that would bring it back.

They traveled for hours. None of them had brought a map, so they had to guess by using compasses which way to go. Finally after boredom took hold of him Roach asked the question all of them were thinking; "Where are we?"

Ghost who was driving shrugged, "Don't know, mate."

Ivan sat in silence but watched the exchange, chuckling and then falling into silence once again.

About a half an hour later, Ghost came to a stop - In the middle of nowhere. Roach got out and looked around. After turning around in a circle a few times, with the others staring at him strangely, he sighed, "Guys, we're lost."

* * *

So this leads up to a chapter that I hope is going to be funny. In my mind it is, but I'll leave that for you guys to decide. ;)


	10. It's Okay to Cry

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are used for entertainment only, nor does the author make any money from writing it.

A/N: Alright, so here's the next chapter. Took me two days to update because I had a band concert yesterday. It went by with flying colors, except that our band messed up during one of the songs. My grandma told me that she didn't notice, so I'm hopeful that no one else did…But it was really fun to play the piccolo and the flute in one concert. :P Anyways, enough of that. There's the reason I didn't update, but here it is.

xGhostxStealth: I'm really happy that I decided to make Ivan join up. I really like him too. ;) Yep, updating quickly is one of the things I'm going to try to work on as a writer. So hopefully all my chapters will be up reasonably soon. As long as I can stop procrastinating after I run out of the stuff written on paper…:P

Sassy Satsuma: You're fine! :D I know how you feel. I sometimes just feel kinda "Eh…" when I see the review button. But I'm happy you are reviewing! I'm hoping that everyone will enjoy their time on the road. Ghost is very amusing while lost. :P Something you don't see every day, now is it?

SuddenSummerStorm: Them teasers are always fun, huh? It does keep you on your toes. I'm hoping that everyone will find the next chapter funny, because I tried to make it so. But I guess we'll see.

Thanks for reviewing, everyone! Now, onto the chapter. ;)

* * *

Chapter 10: It's Okay to Cry

Soap, Price, and Nikolai made their way into the safe house feeling very discouraged and irritated. They had been _that_ close to bringing down Makarov...and he got away. Soap seemed to take it the hardest. He had hoped to avenge all his lost teammates...but he failed. He knew that they probably wouldn't get another opportunity like that again.

When they had stored all their things, Soap sat down. He stared at his feet and felt tears fill his eyes. Hearing Price approach, he wiped them away, not wanting his former superior to see him like this; weak.

"We'll never get another chance like that." By the end of his sentence, Soap's voice broke, revealing his pain.

Price patted him on the shoulder, "It's okay, mate. We'll track him down. When we do, we'll torture him. Make him feel as much pain as possible," his voice was all but a whisper now, "as much pain as you do."

Soap looked at his former captain. A tear escaped his eye and he roughly swiped it away. Price took his hand and gave him a confused look. "You shouldn't be ashamed to cry, Soap. It's good to cry sometimes. It gets some of the pain out of your system."

Soap nodded and allowed more tears to flow. They listened to Nikolai move around in the "kitchen." When he walked over, they looked up to see him carrying two cups of tea. "I thought it would help." He murmured. They nodded and sipped it, sighing as the burning liquid slid down their throats.

"Now what?" Nikolai asked.

Price gave him a fierce look, "We are going to find that bastard again. And like I said - we will make him pay."

Nikolai nodded, "Sounds fair enough."

Soap set down him cup on the coffee table next to the couch they were sitting on, "I need some air," he muttered as he walked out onto the deck.

"Bollocks!" he heard Price yell, "I was just going to say that!"

Nikolai chuckled but Soap ignored them. He was thinking about what Makarov had said - that Shepherd came to him. That meant that every death he had seen in this task force was because of Shepherd. He was glad he had thrown his knife at that

traitor's eye. Soap realized that if they couldn't get Makarov right away that they could find something else to occupy their extra time. Like searching for their scattered teammates.

Soap ambled back into the room. The others listened with intent interest as he told them his idea.

"Let's do it." Price said.

They nodded and got to work on the computers. Soap felt tears fill his eyes again as he thought of two members that they might not be able to find. This time though, he let them come. As Price had said, sometimes...it's okay to cry.

* * *

So, I was thinking of writing some different stories other than just "Adventure/Humor" stories. What I had in mind was yaoi stories, too. But I want to know if you guys approve. I'm not guaranteeing that they'll all be the same genre that you usually read, but I'd like to know if you think I should give it a shot…So I'm having a poll on my profile…although I suppose you could say it in the reviews…but polls are fun! So I'm going to put it on my profile too! :P Please tell me your opinion!


	11. Maps

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are used for entertainment only, nor does the author make any money from writing it.

A/N: So for the last chapter with Ivan, Ghost, and Roach, I was thinking that while they were driving, they weren't on any roads or anything, just…dirt. I know that's probably not true in the real world, but in mine, we'll just pretend it is. :P So this is supposed to be my funny chapter. When I wrote this, I was trying to put quite a bit of humor into it…Hope I didn't fail, epically.

Kiminoloko: When I wrote this chapter, I thought that everyone was going to assume that he was _way_ out of character. But after posting it on DeviantART and on Fanfiction, I'm glad to see that people didn't see it that way. And by yaoi stories, I did mean Modern Warfare yaoi. I meant other kinds too, but for the most part, it will be Modern Warfare. ;) I might not do quite as much Soap/Ghost, mostly because they're not my favorite pairing, but once I get the hang of it…I'll try to write some for you. :3

SuddenSummerStorm: I think I did a pretty good job with it. I'm not one for writing sad things, especially for Soap, because he doesn't seem like one to break out crying, but I'm glad you think I did well with it. And thanks for your opinion.(especially since you don't like yaoi very much. ) I'm not entirely sure they will be any good, but I'm willing to try it. :P And if I decide to, this story will definitely not be pushed to the side. I'm actually going to try to make a rule that I will finish a story before writing another. Quite a good philosophy if I do say so myself. ;)

Sassy Satsuma: I will definitely keep your opinion in mind. :3 With all the encouragement I'm getting from these three reviews, I'm starting to think I will. But we'll see. Yeah, I wanted Price to be sympathetic to Soap in this one. He's always so serious in the game, as if he didn't care about anything but the missions. So I wanted him to have a little emotion. ;)

* * *

Chapter 11: Maps

Ghost slipped his sunglasses further down the bridge of his nose and narrowed his eyes, "We are _not_ lost," he told Roach, "we just don't know where we are."

Roach cocked his head to one side, "But isn't that the same thing?" he asked dumbly.

Ghost sighed and rubbed his temples. Ivan watched their exchange with a small smirk on his face, obviously amused by their childish behavior.

Roach, still confused by Ghost's irritated manner, looked around. In the distance he saw small smudges, "Hey!" he murmured to himself, "that might be a city...Wonder how far away it is." He stood there for a moment, scratching his head. Suddenly, he

rushed over to Ghost and gave him the puppy-dog eyes, "Do you have a map?" he asked innocently.

Ghost sadly shook his head, "Nope. Sorry, mate."

Roach's shoulders sagged. He walked over to Ivan, who was leaning on the truck with his arms would casually around his head which was thrown back to more so enjoy the heat. As Roach settled beside him, not even thinking to ask for a map, Ivan

cracked open an eye, :What is troubling you, my friend? There seems to be a vicious battle raging in your eyes."

Roach smiled softly, "Oh, nothing...just...tired...that's all."

Ivan raised an eyebrow, seeing right through the lie, the sergeant had slept half the trip! But he didn't say anything.

After several minutes of silence, Ghost grew restless. He stalked back from the area he had originally stormed off to sulk in, "We aren't going anywhere, and since we aren't getting anything done, let's set up camp."

The others agreed and began digging around in the vehicle. Ivan grabbed a tent and sleeping bags, "Not that we'll need them." he laughed, and Roach snatched out a bag of marshmallows, "You didn't tell me there was sugar!" he pouted before digging in.

Ghost rolled his eyes and took the tent form Ivan. As he began to set it up, he felt a bead of sweat run down his spine and disappear at the waistband of his pants. Suddenly, he realized it was _hot_. And not the warm summer day in the middle of theUnited States hot, no, more like the hot burning day in the middle of Death Valley. He quickly let go of his work and began thrashing around, trying to get off his balaclava, Kevlar, jacket and t-shirt as fast as he could. When they were, he sighed in relief. He heard snickers behind him, but chose to ignore them.

"That was some dance, Ghost." he heard Roach say.

The two burst out laughing again, and tried to no avail to recompose themselves when Ghost turned to glare at them. The lieutenant shook his head as the two continued to giggle like schoolgirls and returned to his original task.

XxXxXxX

A few hours later, they had a pretty good fire going. Ghost had finished setting up the tent, after several hours of thinking the cloth was cursed, and Roach had finally made himself useful, after finishing almost half the bag of marshmallows, and looked for wood. He came back with a decent pile which Ghost accepted greedily. He was now preparing supper: spaghetti. Why there was spaghetti fixings already placed in the truck was a mystery to the three men, but then again, as long as it was edible, they didn't care. The harsh life of a soldier had taught them that.

Ivan was again leaning on the truck, a large piece of paper held in his hands. Roach was running around acting like an idiot, or at least, that's what Ghost thought for he wasn't paying much attention to either of them.

At one point, Roach ran right over to Ivan, holding a rock and a stick, looking very much like a delighted child. Ghost chuckled at the analogy as he listened to their conversation.

"Whatcha doin'?" Roach asked.

Ivan looked up at him, startled, as if he had forgotten Roach was there, "Reading." he stated plainly.

"Oh, okay."

Everything was silent for a moment, and Ghost assumed that Roach had gone back to frolicking in the desert. That was, before he heard him gasp. He turned quickly to see Roach glaring accusingly at Ivan, "You had a map this whole time?" he all but yelled.

"Yes..." Ivan replied slowly, not sure why he was getting told off.

"We've been here all day when we could've been halfway to Moscow by now!" Roach said exasperatedly.

Ivan's expression slowly bloomed into understanding, "No one asked me if I had one!" he protested.

Roach growled, "That's it! No second helpings for you, mister!" He smirked superiorly, as if that statement would break Ivan's heart.

Ghost had to fight the urge to laugh at his features, turning it instead to a strangled cough, "Come on, Roach," he said after he finally got his "fit" under control, "we'll let it go, have some delicious spaghetti, and get started again tomorrow morning."

He lost Roach at "delicious spaghetti" and he knew it. The young sergeant smiled, the argument already forgotten, "Sure!" he said eagerly.

As he filled his plate with the pasta, Ghost ruffled his hair, "If you want to distract him, all you have to do is mention food." he said affectionately.

Ivan chuckled and followed Roach's suit.

Soon, they were sitting around the small fire, full, sleepy, and ready to continue their postponed journey.

* * *

So the next one is going to be a long one. (by my standards at least :P) So I hope you guys will enjoy it.


	12. Special American Treatment

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are used for entertainment only, nor does the author make any money from writing it.

A/N: So here it is. The biggest chapter in this story, perhaps. I suppose I could have made this into two chapters, but I'm hoping to have about sixteen chapters, at maximum. And just so you'll know, I'm nearing the end of the work that is already written on paper, so it might take a while to get some of them done. But I'll try to not procrastinate too much and just do it. For your convenience of course.

SuddenSummerStorm: Haha, yes, spaghetti is a wonderful creation. When I wrote this, I think it was my favorite food, but after a deep mental conversation, I changed it to BLT's. :P Gotta love them sammiches. I'm happy that you though it was funny and good. :D

xGhostxStealth: For chapters 10 and 11: Hehe, yeah, I'm very sure that I will. I have one written already (on paper of course) but I'll write one for Call of Duty and post that first, just so that I can get the hang of it, and get your guys' feedback. :P It's okay to be slow. Not everyone can get on every day, so I don't see anything wrong. :3 Thanks for reviewing anyway! :D Yeah, Ghost is so badass, that he can't help but get lost. :P He can't help it. Yes. Ghost was stripping. Although, no one in the actual story appreciated it. Well, I suppose Ghost did…Lmao

* * *

Chapter 12: Special American Treatment

Soap sighed. The bright screen in front of him was starting to burn his eyes. As he rubbed his face in a futile attempt to keep himself awake, he heard Nikolai grunt. He looked over to see the Russian struggling just as badly as he was. Price on the other hand seemed fine; tapping away on the keyboard like nothing else in the world mattered. Sighing again, Soap returned to the task at hand. He was searching for the scattered task force members, while Price and Nikolai looked for intel on Makarov. As he read over a particularly small line, he found that even then he couldn't quite read it, 'Damn, I'm getting old,' he thought.

Nikolai grunted again and Soap gave him a sympathetic look. At least he knew he wasn't the only one suffering from sleep-deprivation. He again resumed clicking on random links, all of which seemed to lead to unimportant things. Inside, he snarled. He was tired of just sitting around doing nothing. He wanted to get out of the stupid, dark room and do something. He just didn't know what.

Soap clicked on a link that led to a city close to the Georgian-Russian border - where they had been betrayed. Suddenly, he sat up a little straighter. He read over a line that made his heart beat faster, his whole being quiver in excitement.

"Guys," he breathed, "I think I've found something!"

The others were immediately by his side. Noting this, Soap began to read.

"Two days ago, five battered men stumbled into the large city of Grozny. Unsure of their nationality, despite their 'British accents,' a local gang took them into custody. Not hard to think of what events are occurring with these bloody men, the gang assured to take good care of them - saying that they would give the 'Special American Treatment' to these strangers. If the truth about these loners is that they are truly not American, we give you highest apologies. But while this fact remains uncertain, no precautions are to be made."

By the end of the article, even Price was gaping. "Special American Treatment?" Nikolai muttered. Soap growled. He noticed that it was written two days ago. Meaning that their teammates could be dead. Clenching his fists, he looked at the photograph the article provided. In it were: Archer, Toad, Redcell, Poet, and Pieces. He was shocked at how bad their condition seemed to be. Shaking it off for a moment he glanced at Nikolai, "Do you know where Grozny is?"

Nikolai looked indignant, "Of course!" he cried.

With unspoken words, the three began to get ready. Soap walked over to his bed, pulling out his bag and stuffing all his supplies into it. Noting that the others weren't ready, he walked out onto the deck. He deeply breathed in the mountainous air. A few yards from the safe house was a river. The Volga River was a truly beautiful, peaceful river. Soap couldn't help but notice how gorgeous the simpleness of it was.

"Soap, we're ready!" Price called.

Said man nodded to himself and walked back inside. He grabbed his pack and quickly followed the others onto Nikolai's helo. The Russian started the engine and took off. Luckily he had refueled and reloaded a few days prior, so they were very well prepared for anything that came their way.

Soap soon felt his mind go blank. He was a person became bored easily, needing something to keep him busy - which made his career in the military all the better for him. Finding nothing to do, he gave into his body's sleep-deprived pleas. Lying on the metal bench that was surprisingly warm and comfy, Soap sighed for the third time that day, although this time in contentment. He soon fell asleep, his dreams once again tainted with nightmares. He saw the five task force members.

"Help us, Captain!" they screamed at him. His feet were rooted to the ground, rendering him useless. Two young Russian men came into view. They drew whips and began slashing bloody welts into their skin. They cried out in agony after every blow.

Finally the Russians pulled out pistols and shot the restrained men. Their bodies sat there, limp and bleeding. Suddenly transparent figures seemed to sprout from the corpses. They shouted at him, "How could you let us die, Captain?" Now they were hissing, and he flinched back, "_Why_ did you let us die?"

All he could do was stand there and whimper, on the verge of tears.

Soap suddenly felt as if he were being shaken. He cracked open an eye to see the worried face of Price staring back down at him, "Are you alright, mate?"

Soap sat up quickly, in a panic. When he realized where he was he let his shoulders sag, "Uh, yeah. I'm just peachy." he replied.

Price narrowed his eyes, "Sure. Whimpering like a wounded dog is peachy."

Soap shuddered, the memory of his nightmare still made him want to vomit. Price gently patted Soap's back, his expression softening, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Soap cringed but told his story nonetheless. When he finished telling how vivid the images seemed, Price gave him a sympathetic look. "That's _not_ going to happen." he said firmly, a bright fire blazing in his wise eyes. Soap smiled softly and gazed out of a small window. They were getting close to a large city, already flying over the suburbs. "Where are we?" Soap grunted.

Price smirked, "Believe it or not; Grozny."

Soap gaped at him, "How?" he cried.

Price gave him a soft look, "Soap, you've been asleep for quite a while."

Soap's eyes widened and his mouth formed into a small o. Then he shrugged it off and waited _almost_ patiently. Just as his fingers began to drum on the seat, a telltale sign of his boredom, a sort of _thump_ made him jump. He hadn't noticed Nikolai landing. "My friends," he spoke, "would you like me to assist you?"

Price glanced at him, "Only if you want to, mate." he murmured.

Nikolai nodded. Price shrugged and filled his pockets with magazines. Then he picked up his silenced M4A1 and waited for the other two. When they were ready they jogged to a large building. It was a hotel; no use to them. They crept along it's wall until they made it to the corner. Price peeked around it and gasped.

"What?" Soap hissed.

Price urgently motioned for him to be quiet before turning back to his comrades, "That was easy," he snorted, baffled.

Soap and Nikolai looked too and saw another large building not too far off. I had a symbol on it - a bold skull with seemingly delicate wings attached to it. For a second, Soap couldn't tell what was so important about it. Then he realized that he had seen the design on the arm of one of the gang members in the photo. His expression blossomed into excitement. He met Price's gaze and they nodded. Pushing ahead with Price taking point, Soap brought up the rear. As they neared the building they heard faint screams. Soap froze. They sounded so much like his nightmare...Nikolai ushered him onward and he warily continued, trying to block out the sounds.

When he reached the door, Price cracked it open just enough for them to see. Inside was a simple warehouse-like structure. Soap's blood ran cold. Five restrained men were sitting in the middle of the room - the same way his dream had put them.

Although they weren't getting whipped, they were still quite bloody from previous torture. Soap noticed that Archer and Toad were still wearing their ghillie suits, though the grass was shredded to bits and the hats were gone. He growled.

Price put a finger to his lips and silently stalked inside. The others followed stealthily after. Price slowly came to a crouching position, "Take them all out. If they spot you, kill them as quickly and quietly as you can." Then they separated, each going their own ways.

Soap crept along a row of crates and saw a bulky man standing guard at the end. A small _snap_ was heard and he mentally cursed as he recognized his ankle popping. The man turned around, stumbling back in surprise when he saw Soap. Said man ran forward, slashing downward just as the Russian opened his mouth to call for help. Blood spurted from the wound splashing onto Soap. Inwardly he smirked, the satisfaction of killing someone making him giddy.

He quickly grabbed the man's corpse before it could fall to the floor and give his position away. As he got closer to the bound men, the rusty scent of blood got stronger. He shuddered and then pulled back his arm, ready to knife the next closest man.

Suddenly, Nikolai peeked around a box, making Soap pause. The man gave him a thumbs up, then pointed to an area on the other side of the box where Soap was taking cover and mouthed, "Price."

Soap nodded and replied just as silently, "How many?"

Nikolai held up three gloved fingers.

Soap grinned.

Perfect.

He inched forward until he also saw Price. Said man nodded at them and they moved in sync, killing the remaining Russian's with stabs to their hearts and lying their limp bodies down. Soap moved forward taking confident strides towards his teammates and motioning for them to be quiet. They jerked their heads in response and Soap cut the rope tying them to the metal folding chairs. He helped them to their feet and ushered them to Price who was leading the way outside.

When in the clear, everyone gave a sigh of relief. Archer spoke first, "Thank you, sir," he said slowly, his voice slurring; drunk from pain, "how did you find us?"

Soap smirked, "Internet." he replied cheekily.

Archer chuckled, nodding. Price rolled his eyes as they continued forward. Everyone seemed fine until Redcell collapsed, Pieces falling shortly afterward. Soap was immediately by their sides checking to see what was wrong. After a moment he relaxed,"It was just exhaustion," he stated.

Nikolai suddenly gasped, "I just realized something! I have a cousin who's base is only about fifty miles form here! We can take them there and get them proper medical attention."

Price paused for a moment before agreeing. They slung the two fallen soldiers over their shoulders and carried them onto the helo. Nikolai taking almost no time at all to get the engine warmed up and to take off, taking them to wherever his cousin's base was. The injured men slept on as Soap took off their jackets and such. It was then that the Scot figured out what the "Special American Treatment" was.

The words "American" were carved into their backs and slashed over with a whip, then some of the leftover blood was used to make gory pictures on their chests, including the gang's insignia. Price shook his head in disgust and dabbed the mess away with saliva-slicked paper towels. Soap "tsked" in disapproval, mentioning lightly that saliva was likely to cause infection but it was to deaf ears; Price only ignored him.

They reached the base quickly and before they had even landed, there were armed men waiting for them to step out. Nikolai went first, announcing something in Russian. Everyone relaxed after this and began speaking all at once. Someone then yelled something that made Nikolai smile. A soldier rushed forward urgently asking Soap, "Where are the injured?"

Soap immediately led him to the unconscious men, understanding that they could trust these Russians. As soon as the man saw the five, he winced. Soap observed as he called for more people who came instantly, carefully pulling the wounded into their arms, and swiftly moving back into the throng of soldiers who effectively hid them from sight. Suddenly, a man stepped forward, "I am Corporal Avel Chekhol," he rasped, "Smirnov's second in command. I am under control of this base while he is away."

Soap figured that Smirnov was the cousin Nikolai was talking about. Nikolai nodded, "Yes, sir." he replied respectfully, "is there a place for my comrades and I to stay while our men are being seen to?"

Chekhol nodded, "Of course! And there is no need for the sir. Please, call me Avel."

Price threw out a hand announcing when Avel took it, "My name is John Price and this here is John MacTavish." Soap felt his cheeks heat up under the scrutiny of all the soldiers. Avel made a motion with his head - a type of jerking bow, "Follow me," he commanded gently.

The three obliged, eager to see whatever it was that Avel was leading them to. When they walked through the doorway, they were immediately drawn to the cleanliness. Not a speck of dirt was seen on any of the surfaces. Avel seemed to notice their stares and scratched the back of his head, muttering bashfully, "The nurses do not like an unclean workplace, whereas the soldiers couldn't care less."

Nikolai chuckled. The ambled along a hallway, looking into rooms until they recognized the medical wing, "I'm sure you can tell what this is, and now you know where to find it." Soap nodded and they continued. A few more doors down they saw a small room, "This will serve as your barracks," Avel announced, "please make yourself at home. The showers and restrooms are one more door down and to the left." He then left them there.

They quickly set their things down. "They seem nice." Soap commented, smiling.

Nikolai snorted, "Of course they are - they're Loyalists. They carry no grudge against us."

Price only nodded, saying nothing. Soap made himself comfortable, tossing his bag underneath a bed, flopping down onto the soft mattress, and crying, "Dibs!" Price shook his head at the younger captain's childish antics. After a moment someone's stomach growled. Nikolai stared at his belly before murmuring, "Let's go ask for food."

Soap snickered and followed him as he left the room.

XxXxXxX

About half an hour later found them carefully eating tacos with the rest of the base. They had conveniently walked into the mess hall right as dinner started. Soap had sat with a few friendly soldiers and made conversation with them. Within a few minutes he had learned that Lev had yet to break a bone and Alek had had the chicken pox the year before. "So what brings you here? Besides your hurt men?" a curious Lev asked.

Soap swallowed before answering, "We found our injured men in Grozny," he began simply, "and Nikolai said that his cousin's base was here, so we decided to wing it and come here."

Alek smirked, "Didn't think we'd be so nice, did ya?"

Soap bashfully shook his head, "We're also trying to find two members of our task force, as well as bring down Makarov."

Lev's eyes widened, "You are trying to kill Makarov? So are we!"

Alek smacked him on the back of the head as Soap chuckled. He discerned Alek as the brighter one of their friendship, if not by much.

"What are the names of the other people you are looking for?" Alek asked suddenly.

Soap looked at him, slowly deciding that it wouldn't hurt to tell, "Well their call signs are Roach and Ghost. Ghost always wears a skull balaclava, and Roach is very-" he broke off as he noticed their shocked expressions. "What." he asked quietly, leaning forward.

"They were here." Lev whispered.

* * *

Sorry for all the grammatical errors and words used repeatedly in this one. I can't help it when I write long things. :3 It's unavoidable for me. And the cliff-hanger was supposed to be _dramatic._ But I probably failed epically. :P Ah, well. Hope you enjoyed! :D


	13. Phone Calls

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story, besides Ivan Smirnov, Avel Chekhol, and Smirnov's base, are used for entertainment only, nor does the author make any money from writing it.

A/N: Alrighty, here's chapter 13. I tried to add a little bit of humor into this one, so I'm hoping that makes up for the shortness. I'm not sure if there's a Rustov Hotel in Moscow, and I'm too lazy to look it up, but for the story's sake, we'll say there is. :P I hope you enjoy.

Aurora Lunar 0Love This0: For chapters 2 and 12: Well, I'm honored that the first Call of Duty story you've read is mine. I totally understand what you mean. When they "killed off" Ghost and Roach, I was like, "Why would you do such a terrible thing?" But I'm hoping that they didn't really "die," that they just got put out of the picture for a while. Yeah, cliffhangers are both terrible and wonderful. I find them quite exhilarating and fun to write. ;)

Sassy Satsuma: I figured you guys would enjoy the lost/stripping Ghost. It's always fun to imagine that. :3 That was my first action scene, so I'm glad it turned out alright. I was always puzzled when I thought about what happened to Archer and Toad. So I decided to just use them and some of the less recognized members of the task force to make up that gang. And yes, Soap is sure they'll find them now. ;)

Meg: I'm happy that you're still sticking with this. :3 It makes me feel good inside to know you like it. Of course I'm going to switch points of view though, so you'll be kept waiting for Soap's response. :P But I hope you'll enjoy it when it comes, and that you'll enjoy this one too!

xGhostxStealth: Stealth missions are pretty awesome, aren't they? Yeah, I felt bad for them too when I wrote the descriptions, but when I wrote the torture scene, I wanted to experiment and see how well I could write one. And yes, they were rescued. That makes me feel better about it. :P

* * *

Chapter 13: "Phone" Calls

Ivan yawned as he looked into the distance. The warm desert wind ruffled his dark hair as he tried to stay awake. He looked over at the other two, who were currently sleeping. He smiled softly. The three of them had come so far on their journey - they were almost upon Moscow, the buildings quickly approaching, no longer specks. Ivan felt as though the time had gone by slower. Because of his driving, he was unable to sleep, unable to make the time seem faster. He had grumbled at first, but when Ghost told him he could switch with either of them, he felt protective of his task. Immediately shutting his mouth, he began to observe the scenery. Although the desert was bare, the cacti were very entertaining. Ivan kept imagining that they were hitchhikers begging for a ride, and that he would laugh evilly, zipping away before they could even blink. Just the mere image of this fantasy made Ivan want to chuckle.

He kept doing this, every cactus different in his mind's eye. Finally though, after a cactus that looked extraordinarily like a fat old man, he noticed a sign. He squinted his eyes and saw that it read, "City Limits." He opened his mouth in shock, having not even noticed the lights get brighter.

A road suddenly began and the ride became less bumpy. As soon as the first wheel hit the black asphalt the other two jumped. Roach looked around in a panic, not sure of where he was. Then his expression dawned understanding and he gawked at Moscow's beauty. Ghost on the other hand calmly looked around and gave Ivan an appreciative look. Ivan ignored the two, instead searching for a place to stay. 'Somewhere inconspicuous." he told himself. Then they came across it.

A ratty hotel sat on the corner of a street. Many people crowded around its entrance, though most were homeless and sick and stuck to sitting outside. Ivan found a parking spot, making sure it was a legal one, and stepped out. Ghost and Roach followed, sleepily stumbling after him as he made his way into the building. When he saw the receptionist up front he knew it would be inexpensive, and as he thought, in American money, it was only twelve dollars a night. Pleased with himself, he led to two to their room. He noted the yellow, peeling plaster on the walls and the green, curling carpet on the floor. Then he turned around with a shake of his head, "Okay, so I got a two bed room," Ivan paused, eying the two who looked dead on their feet, "and I am very picky about sleeping in a hotel. I _always_ sleep alone. My own wife doesn't sleep with me in a hotel."

The two nodded blearily, not caring that they would have to sleep in the same bed, just wanting to get some good old shut-eye under nice, warm comforters.

Ivan smiled, opening the door and letting them in. They grinned and all but ran in, kicking their shoes off and jumping into the nearest bed. The both tried to hog the blankets but failed. Finally they settled for lying back to back and smushing the covers to their bodies. Ivan chuckled as their snores quickly filled the room. He pulled out a small device from his jacket pocket and set it on the provided desk. Lifting its antenna to its full height and turning it on, he waited until a voice crackled through.

"Ivan?" it spoke.

"Avel," Ivan acknowledged, "I trust that the base is in good shape."

"Yes," Avel quickly replied, and also, there is something very important that you must know.

Ivan cocked his head to the side, "Okay, shoot."

Finally Avel rasped, "You remember when Riley and Sanderson told us they were looking for their captains?"

Ivan's eyes widened, "Don't tell me..."

"They're here." Avel interrupted.

Ivan shook his head, "I can't believe we went across that desert for nothing. Did they come by themselves?"

Avel grunted, "Not exactly. Your cousin, Nikolai, brought them. They were also carting around some wounded."

Ivan hummed to himself before answering, "Well, why don't we stay here and you can tell them to meet us here."

"That sounds good to me." Avel replied.

Ivan nodded as if his friend could see him, "We are staying in Rustov Hotel in room number 13. Tell them to come straight here when they arrive."

Avel laughed in delight, "Yes, sir." he optimized, "I will tell them the first thing in the morning."

Again Ivan nodded, "Then I will see you soon, my friend."

"Good night, Ivan." Avel whispered.

"Good night, Avel." Ivan responded. He then clicked off the device and lowered the antenna. Then he put the object in his pocket again and slipped his shoes off. Climbing into bed he turned off the small lamp. He then sighed and let his mind wander into dreamland.

* * *

I just realized when I was writing this chapter, that I actually do own Ivan and Avel, so that's why the change of disclaimer, if you noticed it. But now it's all fixed! I actually mention that I own them now! :D


	14. Sudden Realization

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story, besides Ivan Smirnov, Avel Chekhol, and Smirnov's base, are used for entertainment only, nor does the author make any money from writing it.

A/N: So this is kind of like another prologue, but in mid-story. I could have tried to make it longer, but I knew that if I did, it would ruin the plot, so we're just going to keep it short and sweet. The next one I know is going to be long(ish), so it will hopefully make up for this one. :D

Aurora Lunar 0Love This0: I'm glad that you're enjoying this! ;)

xGhostxStealth: Lol, that works. I'll do that too. I'll be reading something on DeviantART and then read it on Fanfiction, (or vice versa) and be like, "Hmm, now why do I have the feeling I've heard this before?" So don't feel bad, you're not alone! :3 Russian's are awesome!

SuddenSummerStorm: Thanks! Glad you think so!

* * *

Chapter 14: Sudden Realization

Soap gaped. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His two favorite soldiers had been here? "Why did they leave? Where did they go?" he couldn't help but ask.

Alek chuckled skeptically, "I find it quite amusing that they left not two days ago, and now the people they were originally looking for are here."

Soap felt his irritation levels rise, "Can you tell me where they went?"

Lev looked at him incredulously, "Of course we can," he replied, "they went to Moscow because they figured you'd be somewhere over there."

Soap cursed. They had missed them by a landslide...maybe. "What type of vehicle did they take?" he pondered.

Alek snorted, "Humvee." he muttered.

Yep. Missed 'em by a longshot. Soap didn't eat for a moment, not sure what to do. Finally, he stood up, murmuring that he was going to see Price and stalked off. As promised, as soon as he had dumped his tray, he made his way over to Price who was chatting with Nikolai and Avel. Soap sat silently next to them, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. As soon as he did though, the three snapped to attention.

"What's wrong?" Price questioned him.

Soap looked at him before answering quietly, "Ghost and Roach were here. Those two over there," he motioned over towards the young soldiers he had sat by previously, "Alek and Lev said that they left for Moscow two days ago."

Avel cleared his throat as if making his presence known, "Actually, they left yesterday."

Soap looked at him in surprise, "Well then they must be close! Why don't we go to Moscow and find them?"

Avel lifted a hand to stifle his outburst, "My friend, even if they are nearby, the chances of you finding them in that large of a city are very slim. Why don't you stay here a while. Ivan told me that once they arrived they would find somewhere to stay and he would contact me. I will try to wok something out when he does."

Price thought about this for a moment, "I think that's a great idea. Why rush off into something when we can know exactly what to do and _then_ go rush off into it?"

Avel chuckled as Soap begrudgingly nodded. They sat around the table for a while longer before deciding that there was nothing left to talk about. Avel got up first, bidding the others a good night before disappearing somewhere. Then the other three looked at each other, their bloodshot eyes giving them hints that they needed rest. So they got up and meandered back to their barracks, only getting lost twice. Then finally, they slipped into their warm, inviting beds.

"Well that was exciting." Nikolai couldn't help but say.

Price nodded in agreement, "Yes it was, yes it was."

* * *

Well, another chapter done. I misled you when I told you there'd be sixteen chapters…I didn't realize that I was already up to chapter twelve when I wrote it…Heheh, so there's actually going to be at least seventeen chapters…We'll say at minimum this time. :P


	15. Severe Disappointment

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story, besides Ivan Smirnov, Avel Chekhol, and Smirnov's base, are used for entertainment only, nor does the author make any money from writing it.

A/N: So, I had it in mind for this to be the second longest chapter, but I'm not sure I achieved that…Also, this is the last thing that I already had written down, and like I said, there are only going to be seventeen chapters in this, tops. So even though we're nearing the end, they might come out a little slow…But I will try to update as quickly as possible. Anyways, thanks for all the lovely reviews for this story! I was totally not expecting people to like it as much as they do! It makes me feel very accomplished. ;)

Sassy Satsuma: Heheh, you couldn't expect them _not _to fight over the covers, could you? :P I'm hoping that it will turn out as good when it's written down, as it does when I think it in my mind. I'm hoping that you guys will like it too. :D

* * *

Chapter 15: Severe Disappointment

Soap drummed his fingers on the surface of the table. He had decided after the third game that watching two inexperienced men play checkers over and over again wasn't entertaining whatsoever. His eyes flitted around the room, trying to spot something that would take his boredom away. Unfortunately, nothing was there. Sadly enough, by now, even a nap sounded appealing, though Soap vowed once that taking naps was for children and people who were sick. He hurriedly looked at his watch before impatiently snorting as he turned back to the game.

He had gone to the infirmary earlier that morning, wanting to see his men, but the nurse had the nerve to tell him that he had to wait. Just the thought of a woman ordering him around made Soap's blood boil. After telling him to wait for at least an hour and a half, Soap had stomped off to the barracks to sulk and whine to Price, only to find it empty. Bewildered, he began to search the base, going from room to room before finally descending upon the one place he hadn't thought to look.

Apparently they had decided that they were bored, and after voting on what to do, Nikolai had confessed that he hadn't played checkers since he was a small child, challenging against opposers at a family reunion. Price had agreed instantly, stating that when he had been young, checkers was one of his favorite games. So off to the mess hall they went, finding refuge in the large room, concentrating solely on the task at hand.

This is where Soap found them. After watching two games he realized that they had never really been exceptional at it, finding instead that they were really quite terrible. Now he was waiting in irritation for the next half hour to go by. When he had first arrived, he had simmered before trying to help each of them with the game, then got told off, each saying, "We know how to play!" He backed off and shut up after that, not wanting to get yelled at again.

Soap rested his head on the table. His limbs felt like lead. He hadn't slept well the night before, dreams of terrible things interrupting his sleep. He couldn't help but think that something was going to go wrong because of these nightmares, but then he scolded himself for his superstition.

Suddenly, he began to hear footsteps. Not wanting to look exposed, he raised his head and looked blearily at the woman who had disturbed them. It was the nurse.

"I know I said an hour and a half," he spoke cheerfully, "but I think that your men are ready to see you."

Soap grinned. He rose to his feet and followed the nurse back to the infirmary. As they walked through the gray, heavy, metal door, the first thing he noticed was that the beds were in a half-circle at the far end of one side of the room. He looked to his right and saw a long counter that ended at the entrance of another room which was labeled "X-ray." He waited for the nurse's confirmation before rushing over to Archer's side.

The man smiled up at him, "Hey, Captain," he wheezed, "how's it going?"

Soap chuckled, "Not bad. How are you feeling?"

Archer shrugged, "Can't complain much. I'm in much better shape than those two." He motioned over towards two cots, and Soap recognized them to be Redcell and Pieces. They did seem very out of it. Their faces were drained of blood and the marks on

their faces were obviously going to scar. Soap winced as he looked at them. He knew it was painful. He had gone through similar conditions when he had killed Shepherd. Soap glanced back over to Archer.

"I suppose you're right."

Archer nodded, "So what, may I ask, is the reason for your visit?"

Soap frowned, he still wasn't sure how to voice his opinion, "Well, I'm not going to lie to you, mate."

Archer nodded, completely trusting of his words.

Soap continued, somewhat cautious, "We were talking to the current manager of the base last night, and he told us that Roach and Ghost had been here, but left _now_ two days ago."

Archer's eyes widened, mouth opening in awe.

"And of course, I was ready to go out there and find them. But Avel, that's the manager's name, told us to wait...Well the real leader of the base, Ivan Smirnov, told him that we should meet him in Moscow."

"How are we going to go, sir?" Archer asked uncertainly, "we are unfit for travel."

Soap gazed at him sympathetically for a moment, "Oh, we aren't going." Archer guessed.

Soap hung his head, "Unfortunately, no. Because anything could happen, we are to go after them as soon as possible. Which means tomorrow to us."

Archer's brow furrowed, "I wish you the best of luck, sir. I only wish I could be there to help."

Soap nodded, "Me too, mate."

After a few more minutes of hushed conversation, Soap was ordered by the nurses to leave, again saying that Archer needed his rest if he was to ever get better. This time, Soap left cheerfully, the weight of receiving severe disappointment from his statement lifted off his shoulders. He wandered back to the mess hall, immediately drawn to the loud noises. He saw that the whole base was eating lunch, and found that his stomach hurt. He decided that he'd go back to the barracks instead, wanting to get sleep although he knew that there was a high risk of nightmares. Soap shrugged and went to the barracks. He laid his head down onto his self-claimed mattress and soon slipped off into a fretful, once-again-tainted seep.

_Soap was walking along a hallway. He could see his two best mates at the end of it and began running towards them. When he got about halfway, a man that was shrouded in shadows jumped at them from behind, pulling them through a door while they kicked and screamed for him to let go. Soap swore he knew who this shadowed man was. As if it were someone infamous in his mind. Someone whom he hated with a passion. As the door closed, he reached it and began twisting the handle and all but begging for it to open._

Soap's eyes opened and he frantically blinked, trying to get the image of their struggling from his mind. He realized with a skeptical start that his stomach hurting worse than when he had first gone to sleep. Soap groaned. Wanting nothing more than to vomit to get rid of the unpleasant feelings. Unsuccessful, he finally stood, making his way to the mess hall again, only to find Price and Nikolai coming towards him. He looked at them with a raised eyebrow with which they responded to with a shrug.

Soap rolled his eyes and changed directions, again heading for the barracks.

"So why aren't you two still playing checkers?" Soap pondered when they had reached it.

Price replied first, "Nikolai got tired of losing."

Nikolai cursed at him in Russian, "So many people lost betting I'd win! And won, betting I'd lose!"

Soap snickered. They sat in silence for a while and watched as the light outside began to fade. Soap watched the hues of orange, red, and yellow turn into ones of pink, purple, and blue. The window was high on the wall, so they could only watch this beauty by looking at the wall.

When all the light had gone, Price finally broke the silence. "Well, even though we've been lying here for forever and a half, I think it's time for bed."

There were a few murmurs of agreement, though one a bit more hesitant that the other. After that there was silence, snores quickly filling the room. Even Soap somehow found a way to slip off, his dreams for one clean and free.

XxXxXxX

Soap shrieked as he walked around the corner, almost running into Alek. Lev was not far behind, snickering at his actions.

"In a hurry to get somewhere?" Alek asked with a wink.

Soap let out a shaky breath, "Not yet, but in a few hours we'll be leaving for Moscow. I'm excited to see them so I can't keep still."

The two nodded in unison, they understood without words who "they" was. Soap had been stumbling around the base all morning, just waiting for the moment when Price and Nikolai finished packing and restocking. He had gotten up earlier than they, by almost four hours, unable to sleep due to excitement. Everyone knew that he was eager to see his men.

Alek looked at the watch on his right arm. "We will bid you farewell to do just that, my friend. We must be off for training."

As they left, Soap began to go to the barracks yet again. This time though, the room was all but empty, the last supplies being secured in packs. Price looked at him coolly, "You ready?" he asked. Soap nodded quickly and Price smirked. "Let's do this." he declared, using a saying Ghost favored. Nikolai chuckled as they headed to Avel's office. They gently knocked on the polished wood, waiting as it opened to reveal Chekhol.

"You are leaving, yes?"

Price nodded, "Aye, just wanted to say goodbye before we left."

Avel smiled warmly, "You will have to visit us."

"We will, don't worry." Soap put in.

Nikolai led them to the helo, starting up the engines as Soap and Price set their bags in and waved to soldiers who came to wish them good luck. Finally, they were on their way. After months of searching, Ghost and Roach were going to be found. Soap squirmed in his seat, almost unable to control himself. Luckily, he was in the back, Price and Nikolai manning the front. He wondered how long it would take them to get there, then wondered how long it took Ivan's group to get there. He did the math in his head and figured about two days. 'Since we're traveling by helicopter, which is considerably faster than a humvee, it will take us about the day to get there." Soap thought.

And sure enough, after a whole more day, they arrived within a mile of Russia's capital. As Nikolai landed, Price cautiously walked to the back, grabbed his pack, and opened the doors. Soap followed suit and rushed outside. By now the helo was fully landed, the blades just beginning to slow down. Nikolai ran over to them. "Let's go." he told them.

They briskly stepped over the dry ground and into the city. The bright lights around them made them blink furiously. Soon the came upon a dumpy building that had large letters on the front, reading "Rustov Hotel." Soap smiled walking inside. Nikolai began speaking with the receptionist in Russian, obviously asking for Ghost and Roach. She replied to him and he motioned for them to follow. As the came upon the door, Soap's heart began to beat faster. Something wasn't right. They saw that the door was cracked a bit, that a window was open at the end of the hall, and that there were red specks on the floor. He gasped and threw the door open, looking into an empty room. He fought the urge to laugh in hysterics as he waited for them to jump out and yell "Surprise!" But after waiting for several minutes, Soap's hopes were shattered.

They weren't there. They were gone, once again.

* * *

So, can you see how the story is going to end up? I'm hoping that I can interest you in what my explanation for Roach and Ghost's absence is. ;) We'll see, though.


	16. Disturbing Revelations

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: Infinity Ward owns everyone in this story except Ivan Smirnov, Avel Chekhol, Alek, Lev and Smirnov's base.

A/N: Alright, so after a bit of prompting from BlueGirlie55, I finally got off my lazy, procrastinating ass and started writing. ;) Thank you for doing so. This one's pretty short, and it's again, kind of like a prologue into the next (and last) chapter. Hope you guys enjoy it anyway!

Aurora Lunar 0Love This0: I've got you stumped? Awesome. :3 I'm guessing that after this chapter, you'll have a bit more insight into what will happen.

IouXxXDeath: To be honest, I'm sure that if I tried to add Dimitri, I'd get him way OOC. :P I haven't really played WaW all that much, only multiplayer campaign with my mom. And if he's in Black Ops (?) then I do know who you're talking about, but I still don't know a lot about him. I'll have to play WaW. Thanks for sticking with the story! :)

SuddenSummerStorm: Yes, unfortunately they missed them. :( Although, I hope you'll be happy with this chapter, for reasons based along those lines. ;) Lol, Canadians are awesome. But yeah, the story will be ending soon. :( Don't worry, I will totally keep writing for FF.N! :D I love you guys!

pikachuprinplup: Uh oh. I don't want your cat to be mad at me. D: Although, I think he won't have to. :P I'm glad you decided to review, thanks! :3

supergamer16: I really do try to add some of my own flair into the characters, while keeping them in character at the same time, if you know what I mean. I'm happy that you like them. :)

xGhostxStealth: That's because checkers are too good for them. ;) Just kidding. We all know it's because they can't sit still long enough to play through an entire game, they just break out the whiskey/vodka and start partying in the middle of it. Ah, gotta love dem badass mens. :P

* * *

Chapter 16: Disturbing Revelations

Price and Nikolai had already come in to look around.

"It looks as if they got captured," Price murmured, "There are scratch marks on this wall. There's little dots of blood here on the end of the bed, and the carpet's torn up right here, as if someone tried to use a knife but got pinned down while trying to use it. Looks like they put up one hell of a fight."

Soap sniffled, he was heartbroken. He suddenly saw a flash of white on one bed. He walked over to it and discovered a small scrap of paper. He picked it up and saw that there was writing on it. Confused and greatly interested, he began reading it. Immediately, his spirits lifted, and he sped out of the room.

The other two all but screamed at him, concern filling their wide eyes. After they had caught up, gasping for air outside the doors of the hotel, they snatched the piece of paper from Soap. He detected a small bit of anger in their actions and began apologizing. Though after Price read over the small script, he placed a hand on Soap's shoulder, handing the scrap to Nikolai.

"This certainly isn't a good situation, but now we know where they are, and now we're going to go get them."

Nikolai nodded eagerly, having just finished reading the paper. Soap smiled, following his former captain's footsteps as he looked at the addresses on the buildings around. For a few moments everything was silent, save for the sounds of city life around them. Then Nikolai suddenly gasped, "I know where this address is!"

Soap looked at him in interest, waiting for an explanation, but got none. Nikolai just rushed off to the left. Price looked at him blankly before following him, Soap at his heels. They soon arrived at another beat-up looking house. Soap found himself wondering if all the places in Moscow were this close.

Nikolai looked proudly at his comrades, "This is a place that Ivan and I always went to when we were in town."

Price nodded, pushing forward to the door, looking through the small crack on the bottom. He hissed triumphantly, waving his hand to the others, a silent order to follow. Price rose when the others arrived, "They're in there," he spoke cheerfully.

Soap felt giddy. Finally! His men were found! Price slowly pushed the door open, eyeing the three men who were tied up on wooden chairs, before creeping in. Soap's eyes widened. Ghost and Roach looked at him, as if warning him. Suddenly, a loud crash sounded behind them, and they abruptly turned to see the one man who they didn't expect to see. The man who had appeared and disappeared seemingly everywhere in Russia. The one man who had begun this war.

"So you saw my note," Makarov said slowly, his bi-colored eyes filled with malice as he warily watched the three men, an m9 pointing to them.

Price glared, "Makarov," he growled coldly.

"Price," the Russian said indifferently. He meandered over to the tied up men, who shied away from him. "I suppose you came for them, correct?"

Soap nodded jerkily, his eyes still on Ghost and Roach. Especially Ghost, for he had just found out something monumental. Something that would change his and Price's lives forever.

"Hmm, too bad you won't be taking them."

That knocked Soap straight back to the present, "What the hell do you mean by that?" he snarled.

Makarov smiled snarkily, "I mean that I'm going to kill all of you."

Roach began thrashing in his seat, obviously trying to get out.

Makarov chortled cruelly, "This reminds me of my first 'killing.' I was a young boy then. Zakhaev was my mentor back then, teaching me to be what I am today," he winked at his crowd, as if that statement were a good thing, "I was led with a group of his followers, we came upon this small house, it was Christmas time, and the whole family was home. The hole group just made their way in, and slaughtered every. Last. One of them. I myself stayed out of the fire fight, by Zakhaev's orders, but had just as much fun watching than I would've otherwise."

No one noticed Ivan's shock-stricken gaze, until he whispered, "You were the one who killed my family?"

* * *

Again, I find myself wincing at how short it is, and especially how much I think I rushed through it. I hope you guys found it somewhat interesting, though.


	17. Smoothing the Rough Edges

Modern Warfare 3: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Rating: T (but only for a bit of cussing)

Disclaimer: Infinity Ward owns everyone in this story except Ivan Smirnov, Avel Chekhol, Alek, Lev, and Smirnov's base.

A/N: Alright, this is the last chapter of the story I've been calling my baby for over a year. I'd like to thank all the wonderful people who reviewed it, and even those who read it at all. You supported my attempt at writing. This is the first story I've _ever_ finished, and I'm proud to say I've shared it with you. I love you all. xSxSx  
Now, onto the real authors note. ;) You finally get to see what Ivan's story is in this chapter. And I'm sure you'll be at least a little pleased with how the ending turns out. I hope so, anyway…

Aurora Lunar 0Love This0: Intense indeed ;) I'm happy that you think that. My idea of my writing is sort of novice-like and boring, and to hear you say that you liked it makes me more confident.

gazlover12: Did I update quickly enough for you? :3 I'm ecstatic that you liked my cliffhanger. Most of them, I think, are kind of lame and don't really leave you guys hanging, that you understand already what will happen. But in this one you'll get to see Ivan's childhood tragedy and I'm thinking that none of you will have guessed this. ;)

xGhostxStealth: Glad you weren't too revolted at the shortness of it. :P I know I was. I'll always see my writing on the paper, and it looks long, and then I type it on the computer and it's like, "Whoa, when did that get so short?"

pikachuprinplup: Well, I'm certainly relieved that your cat was satisfied with the last chapter. I can only hope your dog is alright with this one, and I hope you are too! :D

* * *

Chapter 17: Smoothing the Rough Edges

Makarov raised an eyebrow, "Did I say you could speak?" he growled, stalking forward menacingly. Ivan, with wide eyes, quickly shook his head.

Makarov snorted with dark amusement and Price frowned, "No, I want to hear what he has to say. To hear another horrendous crime you've done that can be put on your case at trial."

Makarov let out a bout of laughter, "You think I'll actually be caught? What part of 'I'm going to kill you' don't you understand?"

Price glared at him and signaled for Ivan to begin. The Russian sergeant took in a shaky breath, his eyes flashing from Makarov and back to Price, "When I was only just a boy, ten years old, my parents decided that they wanted to see whole family, so they invited them all. Aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, sister-in-laws, brother-in-laws twice removed, you name it," Ivan paused, glancing at Ghost and Roach who were listening intently, before continuing, "Whenever we had family reunions, we always had a schedule for things. For example, for half of the day, the children would play games together while the adults chatted. Then the grandparents would gather everyone and we would all have meals and socialize,"

Makarov groaned, "When are you going to get to the good part?"

Soap gave him the death eye and Makarov winked at him.

Ivan took a moment to gather his thoughts before murmuring, "Now I'm sure you've got the gist of our family traditions, so we'll move on. My grandparents were calling the children inside for dinner, and excellently roasted turkey with steamed, seasoned, and stuffed vegetables. My father, coincidentally, told me that I needed to check up on the family cow, Musa, before coming in, so I did. As I was making sure she was alright, I heard footsteps outside and though that it was some of my cousins arriving, although it was a few minutes after my father had called. How foolish I was. Once I found that Musa was fine, I checked on our horses, Denka and Suel before returning, figuring that I might as well,"

Makarov interrupted Ivan's story once again, chortling with cruel laughter, "Bet you were surprised when you walked in, huh?"

This time, everyone screamed at him to shut up. Even Ghost and Roach found the confidence to yell it out. Makarov curled his lip, gesturing harshly for Ivan to continue.

"When I walked into the house, I was horrified. At the door frame there was spatters of blood, there were bodies everywhere! There was just- I-I don't know! It-it all happened so fast!"

Roach patted him on the leg, attempting to calm the hyperventilating Russian. Ivan looked at him gratefully and mustered up the courage to begin again, "When I walked in, I saw my family spread out across the living room, dead. They had all been sitting down, waiting for me so that they could pray and eat dinner, and _you_ came along and killed them," Ivan sneered and jerked his head in Makarov's direction, "I walked in, mystified staring at the carnage around me. I made my way into the kitchen where I saw a single man, Imran Zakhaev, finishing up the last of the turkey, the smell still hanging in the air. He smiled at me, his yellow teeth still burn the very crevices of my mind," Ivan shuddered, "Then said that I was very lucky and that he had to join his comrades. He then fled out the back door and fell to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably."

Ivan's eyes filled with tears as he remembered the tragic incident. Nikolai sniffled slightly, trying to cover up the fact that he was crying. It was affecting him as much as it was Ivan, considering it had also been his family who had been killed.

"I don't know how long it was before I called the police. We lived a few miles away from town, so it took them at least fifteen minutes to get there. When they had surveyed the damage and took notice of the evidence, they told me that four adults and one child had been there. After that I spent my days in an orphanage. And of course, after failing at finding a successful job, I enlisted into the army. I remember the day Zakhaev was killed; I had been training an FNG while the television played in the background. I heard the news and almost had a heart attack I was so happy."

Makarov growled at him, displeased at the mention of his mentor's death.

"Ever since then, I've been leading a simple life. I managed to find a wife, Akulina Zykov, and we've pulled through, even with my absences. I feel bad, but she knows it's my duty to lead my base and instruct my soldiers. That's what I've been doing ever since."

Price was the only man in the room, save for Makarov, with a straight face. Everyone else looked horrified. Roach spoke first, breaking the tense silence, "That's terrible, Ivan! I'm so sorry!"

Ivan shrugged, smiling lightly, "It is alright, my friend. I have long since learned how to cope with my life."

Makarov clapped his hands together, startling everyone to attention, "Right, now that that's over with, we can get to the fun part." He pulled out a handgun from its place at his hip and aimed for Nikolai, "Any last words?" he snickered. Then he snapped the weapon in Soap's direction, who had nodded slightly and stepped forward, "What are you trying to do, you Scottish bastard? "

Soap grinned, his previously raised hands lowering, "Well, I wasn't the one who was trying anything."

Before he could register this, Makarov was suddenly on the floor, now just a giant heap on the cement. Ghost stood behind him, holding a slab of hardwood and looking quite pleased with himself, "The fat lady has sung."

Price nodded in approval, as everyone else cheered. No one noticed as Makarov moved his arm, just barely. He then abruptly sat up, his gun poised to shoot Soap. He never got the chance. Before he had even gotten his finger onto the trigger, a bullet hole appeared on his forehead, blood immediately sprouting from the wound. The black haired Russian fell to the floor, very much dead. Soap stood there, blankly staring at the corpse he had just created. Ghost let out a guffaw of skeptical laughter.

Price, Soap, and Nikolai all rushed over to him, hugging him tight. "Gaz!" Nikolai cried in delight. Ghost stood there for a moment, his eyes wide, before hugging them back. Roach and Ivan stood up, smiling at the exchange of old friends.

"I thought his name was Ghost?" Ivan whispered.

Roach threw his head back with laughter, "I'll tell you later." he promised.

After pulling away from Ghost, Soap clasped his hand on the Brit's shoulder and whispered, "You're alive." he spoke of both personas Ghost used.

Ghost nodded, "I was never gone, but yes, that I am."

Soap grinned and then made his way over to Roach, picking him up in a tight hug, then set him down and turned to Ivan, his arm outstretched.

"John MacTavish," he introduced.

Ivan smiled, "Ivan Smirnov," he replied, bowing his head slightly.

After everyone had been acquainted again, they sat there.

"Now what?" Ivan questioned.

Price chuckled, "Well, Soap and I here were already on the Most Wanted list, and we just killed the most wanted person on earth, so that's basically the cue to get the hell out of here."

Soap nodded, "And we've also got to retrieve our men from your base, after they've healed up of course, and find a new safe place."

Ivan smiled, "You can stay at my base if you'd like. We never get officials out there because we _are _part of the military."

Price nodded eagerly, thanking him for his hospitality. They sat there for a while longer before finding Nikolai's chopper and flying back to Ivan's base. Everyone came out to meet them, even the injured Task Force men managed to make their way out at see them.

Everyone was happy now, they were all back together. Sure, there were casualties, but what war doesn't have them? They all suspected that they would eventually see the lost ones anyway, so they weren't too fretful about it, though it still caused them great grief to think about it. And while all were content, there was still an unspoken acknowledgement that something was still out there, something that would bring their demise. But they were together now, and that's all they were focusing on.

* * *

Wow, I really think the ending was lame. But I hope you guys think it was an alright ending chapter! Please leave feedback and tell me how my first, finished story was! I'm not sure if I'll make a sequel or not, the latter is probably more likely, but you never know; something random could inspire me to continue this. For now, I'll leave it with this happy(ish) ending.


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